


Case 185: The Adventure Of The Jewelled Jumbo (1901)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [238]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Edwardian, Crimes & Criminals, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Framing Story, Gay Sex, Jewelry, Johnlock - Freeform, Justice, M/M, Police, Theft, Trains, Unrequited, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-03 18:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17883167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ A stolen necklace has been hidden and the race is on to find it - but some idiot goes off after the wrong elephant! Sherlock helps a friend pick the correct Precedent but his client is not exactly happy with his efforts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyster99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyster99/gifts).



_[Narration by Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Esquire]_

In our last adventure John mentioned the recent advent of Mr. Josiah Templar, cousin to Mr. Edward Bell whose friend we had rescued from the Tankerville Club some twenty-to years ago (gulp!). Mr. Templar haled originally from the town of Weston-in-Makerfield in industrial south Lancashire and had as I said come to London in what might euphemistically have been described as 'difficult circumstances'. He had been serving as a constable in the Lancashire Constabulary and was being considered for promotion when there had been a scandal surrounding some evidence that had gone missing. Happily he had mentioned his troubles to his cousin who had immediately asked me to help, and the real culprit had been shown to be the sergeant at Mr. Templar's station.

Those, alas, had not been the 'difficult circumstances'. The local constabulary had decided that the proper thing to do was to close ranks and have an internal inquiry to find the sergeant innocent and Mr. Templar guilty despite the evidence. It took some advisory (some might use the term 'Advisory') letters from myself to certain Influential People to sort matters out, and I was not surprised soon afterwards to hear that Mr. Templar's superiors were making his life difficult. A few more letters to the right people and I secured the fellow not only a transfer to London but also a well-deserved promotion, although unfortunately the rat who had tried to bring about his downfall was allowed to retire. It was behaviour like that that gave the police service a bad name.

Such a pity that 'someone' just happened to tell the corrupt sergeant's wife about his mistress.

The above may seem relatively minor but it played an important role in explaining the visible unhappiness on the young sergeant's handsome ebony features as our train headed northwards back to his home-town. There had been a major theft and as it had been on his beat he had been 'asked' (only a cruel person would have used the term 'begged') by his former employers to go back and help out. I had explained to John that the real reason for this was that local people had been disgusted by the way in which their former policeman had been treated and were therefore being less than helpful. I was not surprised at that one little bit; policing in England was and hopefully always would be done by consent, something rather too many of those in authority seemed wont to forget in recent years.

There was also the fact that the item in question was not only very valuable – a pearl-and-diamond necklace worth thousands of pounds – but that the local police had been guarding it at the time it had been taken, so there was more than a degree of embarrassment involved. The presumed thief had been apprehended but he had contrived to get rid of the offending item during his short flight across town and the police had no idea where he had hidden it. And with their being unable to hold him indefinitely the villain might soon be able to go and retrieve his prize. It seemed indeed to be a race against time.

A generally unpleasant and difficult case was topped off by the fact that the necklace's owner was Lady Ophelia Williams, the sort of woman who doubtless looked down on Marie Antoinette as being far too common. Lady Williams' husband had died (probably a blessed relief for the fellow, John had quipped; he was terrible at times!) and she was now running a small empire of factories and mills where the conditions were said to be appalling. About the only positive thing in the whole business was that her stepson Martin was by all accounts a much more sensible fellow although unfortunately as he was two years shy of his majority his terrible mother got to run things, albeit alongside a couple of lawyers who hopefully kept her in check. All in all a very sorry situation.

֍

We had passed Crewe Junction and I think that Sergeant Templar had inspected just about every corner of our first-class compartment when he sat down with a huge sigh. He had as John correctly observed almost an appearance of imbecility about him that reminded me a little of Alexander Macdonald, our friend Inspector Macdonald's nephew who was still in Warwickshire but had since our encounter moved to Shipston and become a sergeant. In both cases I knew that appearances were deceptive; Sergeant Templar too was a sharp fellow and fully deserved his own promotion. I knew that even some of the more cynical officers at Inspector Baldur's station had already been won over by his abilities although I felt it was a little unfair of them to call him 'Henriksen Mark Two'. As John so rightly pointed out, Sergeant Templar had actually come round to Baker Street on a non-baking day!

“What do we know about this again, sir?” the young policeman asked quietly.

I checked through my notes.

“On the day of the theft Lady Williams had the necklace in her possession at five-thirty at the latest”, I said. “She had just entertained guests so had of course been wearing it.”

“Because we _all_ take afternoon tea in our diamonds, ya!” John snipped. I do not know how but he was managing to get even worse!

“There was a police presence because she was hosting an important social event”, I said shooting him a disapproving look. “After the visitors left she placed the necklace in her safe. Only she and her son know the combination; her two sets of lawyers only know half each which I think demonstrates rather a lot about how much she trusts people.”

“The son?” John asked dubiously. I shook my head.

“One of the best alibis ever”, I said. “He was at choir practice the whole time.”

“Let God be my witness!” John smiled. “What happened?”

“The theft was discovered at just after six when Lady Williams went into her study to write a letter”, I said. “All hell broke loose as you can probably imagine. There was one constable outside the door of the study and another outside the front door. The thief gained entry round the back via the small study window which we know was forced; there was no other way into the building.”

“Was there no alarm on it?” John asked.

“The main window was alarmed but the study one they had presumably deemed too small for anyone to enter by”, I said. “A foolish and expensive oversight that may prove, especially if the insurers decline to pay out as a result. The thief, who we may presume to be the subsequently captured Mr. Cairns as there was evidence of his having been in the area, made off and was caught some time later the other side of Weston Victoria Railway Station. That gave him the best part of Station Road in which to dispose of the offending item.”

“Which we have to find”, John said.

I looked at the silent Sergeant Templar. He was never one for verbosity or any unnecessary words for that matter, but something about his silence during this conversation was slightly different. I knew from certain sources of mine that there was rather more to his departure from Lancashire than he had told us, and I felt that despite his very solid appearance he was rather more fragile than he looked, especially when it came to things like..... well, like this.

“The other factor”, I said casually, “is that Lady Williams is a close friend of the Chief-Constable of the county, which adds further urgency to the investigation.”

A slight but definite reaction from the sergeant, I observed as John nodded and took the notes for his records. Sometimes I hated being right when I thought the worst of people.

֍

Some while back the _'Times'_ had done a cartoon lampooning the dreadful conditions of factories and mills like those of Lady Williams with the caption 'it's grim oop North!'. One change and a short journey on a single-coach train brought us to the Victoria Station of Weston-in-Makerfield, a town which seemed determined to live down to that image. True, the cold late winter afternoon and the persistent fog did not do much to improve things but this truly seemed a lifeless place. I hoped that we could remedy matters here quickly and take our silent friend back to London where he belonged now.

Sergeant Templar was surprised that I checked him into our hotel, presumably thinking that he would have had to make his own arrangements once we got here. I waved away any protests.

“Lady Williams has offered a large reward for the return of her necklace”, I said, “so we can afford a moderately comfortable local hotel. And I wish for us to be on the spot as I am sure at least some of the locals will feel inclined to open up more to their former local bobby.”

I actually thought that was true as a look at the map had shown me the thief would have had to travel over three-quarters of a mile past many houses, four shops and possibly even a railway station amid the early evening rush. I did not believe for one moment that no-one had seen anything, and the local constabulary was by their recent foolish actions paying a heavy price for losing the trust of the people who paid their salaries.

The only downside of having our friend in our hotel was that I felt less inclined to treat myself to sexy times with my beloved as the silent sergeant might well blunder in on us unannounced. It was unlikely but not a risk I wished to take, no matter how much someone pouted (although he would pay for that once we were back home!). And it meant sleepless nights even though the love of my life was but a few yards away. Life was unfair at times.

֍

We went to the house of Lady Williams the following day. I had taken the precaution of ensuring that she was out but even so I noticed the visible reluctance of our policeman friend to enter it. Since she had accepted our involvement in the case (in one of the most graceless telegrams I had ever received; how could someone be that offensive in just twelve words?) we were admitted and spent some time checking around the study but to little effect.

“You are the expert here, sergeant”, I said. “Does it surprise you that that window was left unalarmed?”

“Her Ladyship is tighter than a duck's.... I mean she is known for not being generous with her money, sirs”, the sergeant said. If not the cake-detecting abilities he definitely shared with Henriksen the tendency to blush deeply. “I guess the people fitting the alarm pointed it out and she said no.”

“We shall call on them and check that out”, I said. “A good point. I wonder how the thief gained access to the safe if only Lady Williams and her son knew the combination?”

“Someone may have gotten it out of the son perhaps?” John suggested. “Maybe bought him a drink and loosened his tongue. The folder said that he and his mother do not exactly get on.”

The sergeant snorted at that.

“The boy does not drink”, he said shortly. “His stepmother has all the vices in their family! But the fellow they have is a skilled safe-cracker; he would likely not need any code.”

“Since the boy attains his majority in two years time his stepmother's position will then change greatly”, I said. “She has a small income from a sum put aside for her by her late husband but she cannot touch the capital. I am only hopeful that she is not as murderous as she is annoying, rude and loathed by just about everyone bar the Chief Constable, although perhaps fortunately young Mr. Williams does also have two younger brothers.”

“Like we need another dead body lately”, John sighed. “I am glad that I brought my gun.”

֍


	2. Chapter 2

Fortunately the company that had fitted Lady Williams' alarm had a shop a short way up the road, and an inquiry there showed that the sergeant had been right in her surmise.

“Expensive”, John mused, “especially if someone tells the insurance company.”

“Who would dislike her enough to do something like that?” I asked innocently.

“Anyone who ever met her!” the sergeant said sourly. We both smiled at that.

The road from Lady Williams' house ran past several other properties to a crossroads, then down a steep and curving hill to the level-crossing by the station, which I thought worthy of note. Any fleeing thief would surely not have risked his escape being cut off by an ill-timed train? There was a lot of smoke and steam to add to the fog as the station had a good yards attached which backed on to the gardens of some of the terraced houses by the road. It was dank, dirty and frankly depressing.

We had almost reached the crossroads when I realized that we had lost something, to wit one London police officer. Looking back I saw that Sergeant Templar had that slow thoughtful look of his that meant he was working something out. After about a minute he smiled.

“You said they caught the fellow the other side of Victoria Station, sir?” he asked.

“Yes”, I said. “What of it?”

The sergeant pointed to a frankly unremarkable small shop a little way further down that backed onto what was obviously some sort of factory.

“The plasterer's, sir”, he said as if that explained everything.

We both just looked at him.

“The fellow must have been making for the other station, Weston Prince Albert”, he said. “That is on the main-line so he could have gotten a fast train out of here; Victoria only does stoppers like the one we came in on.”

“So?” John asked.

“There is an alleyway down the side of the plasterer's that comes out in the goods yard and goes right round to the road yonder”, the sergeant said. “He would have been more likely to go that way than risk being cut off by the level-crossing. Maybe that was why no-one saw him.”

“Your local knowledge of the area is proving invaluable, sergeant”, I praised. “You are quite correct. And that route would mean he did not have to risk being cut off at the level-crossing. Now we need to follow his flight and see if we can find where he may have hidden his haul.”

That however proved easier said than done. None of the first three shop-owners had seen anything (or would admit to having seen anything) although all were pleased to see Sergeant Templar back in the area again. As was the owner of the plasterer's who shook his hand most fervently and promptly got plaster dust all over the fellow.

“We are making inquiries as to the flight of a Mr. Cairns who may have come this way with a rather valuable necklace”, I said.

The plasterer looked at us both uncertainly before turning back to Sergeant Templar.

“Can they be trusted?” he asked warily. “We all remember what happened last time.”

“If the sergeant's efforts do track down the missing necklace I will ensure that he gets _all_ the credit”, I promised.

“He's right, Paul”, the sergeant said. “He was the one who got me out of here, and promoted. He's sound.”

The plasterer still looked unsure about us but nodded.

“Scruffy guy ran into the shed just after we had closed up for the night”, he said. “I hadn't locked the place and I heard him from round the front but I didn't see him. By the time I got round there he'd gone.”

“How did you know he was there?” John asked.

“Door was swinging open and I could hear someone running down towards the yard”, the plasterer said. “Plus there were footprints in the dust. Large ones so it weren't one of the kids; you know how they like to play in the railway yard despite being told not to. They sent that replacement of yours Coster round and he was as smarmy as ever, so I told him nowt.”

“James Coster”, the sergeant said. “I do not like him.”

I do not know how, but somehow our friend was able to utterly condemn the fellow by that simple sentence.

“Then wish us luck”, I told the plasterer. “For we shall have to see Mr. Coster next.”

֍

I reminded myself that even Sherlock Holmes could be tried for murder. Then again, I knew more undetectable ways of ending someone's life than most people. And even if caught, I was sure that I could plead justifiable homicide for curtailing the existence of this vile little worm.

What in God's name had possessed the Lancashire Constabulary to lose someone as talented as Sergeant Templar in favour of this pitiful and utterly loathsome excrescence? Unless the idea was to make criminals feel so repelled that they confessed on the promise that they could spend a long time in gaol not seeing him? My fists itched to slap the fellow and I could see from John's face that I was not alone.

“We have a _clew_ , sir”, Sergeant Coster whined and even his voice was annoying. It sounded like the station-announcer at Paddington had worn a pair of trousers that were at least two sizes too tight. 'Da next twain is for Bwistol Temple Meads calling at Aling, Hyes and Hawlington, West Dwayton, Sly, May-Dunnid, Wedding....'

I forced a pleasant look onto my countenance. It took some effort.

“What is that?” I asked.

“We had someone heaves-dwopping when that wat Cairns was whispering to someone in the next cell”, Sergeant Coster grinned. “Said about hiding it in the Jumbo!”

We all looked at him in surprise.

“He hid the necklace in a passing elephant?” John said flippantly.

Sergeant Coster scowled. I hid a smile.

“Hoi have no idea what it means”, he said shortly. “Hoi shall be sending my men to scour the awea tomorrow to see if they can foind anything.”

I had the distinct impression that Sergeant Templar's thought processes had juddered into gear again but he said nothing. He could probably beat this lame excuse for a policeman into a pulp without breaking a sweat, which would have been a problem unless he gave us a warning to look the other way first.

“There was no toyshop there”, John mused, “so it cannot have been a toy elephant.”

I had a feeling about this and specifically about that Jumbo. Well, time would tell.

֍

I feared that poor Sergeant Templar was going to explode if one more person came up and said how they had missed him and how nice it was to see him back in the area and was he not looking well? Still, it did him good to see how much he was truly missed.

Our two waitresses were also smiling as they looked at him while the three of us were at lunch the following day when we were suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a very pleased-looking Sergeant Coster. He sat down without being invited; I caught one of the waitresses making a quite obscene gesture that would have had me frowning at her had it not been entirely merited. I made a mental note to tip her later.

“Hoi thought we didn't need _your_ help, Mr. Omes!” he grinned. “We'll have that necklace back before sundown.”

“What has happened?” I asked.

“Hoi went round to that hidiot plasterer's place and hasked him about jumbos”, Sergeant Coster said. “Himpudent sod looked at me as if hoi was mad but as usual hoi was wight. He'd had four of those daft money-boxes in the shapes of elephants weady for dispatching to buyers round the back; Cairns must've broken in there and hidden the necklace in one of them. And hoive names and addresses for all the buyers so one of them has it. Hoim so bwilliant!”

I am amazed that your ego fitted through the door, I thought acidly as he stood and left without saying goodbye. Not that we were sorry to see him depart.

When we left, Sergeant Templar said he wanted to go and speak to the people at the station, and I thought it better that he be unaccompanied. Besides I had had some more information from Miss Bradbury in London – seriously, did that lady ever sleep? - and although I was saddened by its content I was not in the least bit surprised.

֍

The following day we called at the police station to find a rather subdued Sergeant Coster, far removed from his cock-sure attitude of less than twenty four hours ago.

“None of 'em!” he said dourly. “Not only that, damn papers somehow got wind of hit hand they're chock-full of 'police being houtwitted' stories. Bosses are wight annoyed. Hoi checked but the wecipients heach had the things still in their boxes hall sealed up. Unless that bloody plasterer his lying and took 'em for himself. Wouldn't put hit past him.”

“I hardly see how he could dispose of it”, I said mildly. “You will of course have to release Mr. Cairns.”

“What?” he said incredulously. “Why?”

“At the moment all you have on his is that he was seen in the vicinity of a house where a burglary took place”, I pointed out. “I doubt that you will find any jury who would convict him on that.”

“You seem more on the side of the cwiminals than us coppers”, Sergeant Coster said, eyeing his fellow sergeant with disfavour.

“I am on the side of justice”, I said simply. “And justice will be done.”

“You didn't find the necklace though”, the excrescence retorted.

“I prefer to use other methods to achieve my ends”, I said airily. “The necklace will be back with the Williams family by tomorrow. I am sure of that.”

“We'll see!” Sergeant Coster said sourly.

I tried not smile at the bell-boy who was gesticulating most graphically something that was surely impossible. Even for Sergeant Coster!

֍

John was really annoyed that I would not tell him how I could be so sure of success and pouted all the way back to the hotel. He pouted even more when there was a message waiting for Sergeant Templar which read simply '2177 Edward Tootal', and led to his going out again and John pouting some more in the hope that I would enlighten him (I did not). I did however treat my beloved to a whole pie from the local bakery to make him feel better. He had to have a nap before dinner and the sergeant arrived back just as we were going down to eat. I smiled at him.

“Welcome, sergeant”, I said. “Did you get it?”

“Did he get what?” John asked.

The sergeant nodded and reached into his pocket from which he handed me a paper bag. I opened it and looked inside then smiled before showing it to John. He gulped when he saw the contents.

“Is that..... it?” he asked. I nodded.

“A paper bag containing several thousand pounds worth of pearls and diamonds”, I said. I looked pointedly at Sergeant Templar before continuing. “Now all we have to do is restore it to the Williams family.”

֍

“John and I shall be meeting Lady Ophelia today”, I told Sergeant Templar over breakfast that morning. 

He went rather pale. 

“Do you.... wish me to be there, sir?” he asked carefully.

John looked at me curiously.

“Do you wish to be there, sergeant?” I countered.

I thought for one horrible moment that he might start crying, but fortunately he held it together. 

“I think that our time here is done”, I said quietly. “We shall be catching the three o'clock train back to London. If you would rather spend the intervening time with your friends in the town and at the station – especially those who as we might say 'set a precedent' – then that would probably be for the best.”

He looked absurdly grateful at that.

“Thank you sir!”

֍

“I do not understand”, John said later as we waited for Lady Williams' arrival. “What was all that about the necklace being hidden in a Jumbo? And people setting a precedent?”

I really wished that he would not pout like that. I did not wish to have to face a titled personage (even one as unpleasant as this one) just moments after ravishing my beloved and if he continued to look like that.... well, we still had a couple more hours in our room upstairs.

“I mentioned earlier that the worlds of the police and criminality are close”, I said. “It was ironic in this case that the gentleman who helped Sergeant Templar secure justice in this matter was the professional thief Mr. Cairns.”

_”What?”_

“A rare instance of the much talked about honour among thieves”, I said. “Some things disgust even criminals, and Mr. Cairns was one of many in the area who considered the constabulary's treatment of our friend utterly reprehensible. He wrote to me in London to see if things had indeed worked out well for him, and we arranged a few things between us. Mr. Jones the plasterer most ably assisted in the act of 'thievery' by making sure the escape route was left open and then by enabling Sergeant Coster to look the fool, although the second of those did not take that much effort. I used my contacts to persuade the constabulary that they should ask for Sergeant Templar's help in the matter and he was able to follow all the clues we placed for him to where the necklace had been hidden.”

“But.... the Jumbo?” he said.

“The constabulary which had so mistreated Sergeant Templar makes a fool of itself by declaring it has the case all but solved – I made sure to pass that pompous ass Sergeant Coster's boasts to the local newspaper – then too late realizing that it has not. The clue was the railway goods yard. The London and North Western Railway Company has a successful class of passenger locomotives officially called the 'Precedents'† but an improved version of them, although rather sadly named 'Improved Precedents' is so large that they have been nicknamed 'Jumbos' after the famous elephant. That was what the message for our friend meant; number 2177 is the engine whose crew were entrusted by Mr. Cairns with the precious necklace. All Sergeant Templar had to do was inquire as to which of those locomotives happened to be in the yard at the time of the theft and to then contact the crew. They brought the necklace back and handed it over.”

“And they were not tempted... you know.”

I smiled at his slight incoherence.

“The determination to secure justice for their friend ran deep”, I said. “The constabulary made a spectacular blunder in their handling of the whole affair, especially when one considers that in this country policing is done by consent. I sent their lost star pupil to the railway station early as I did not wish him to be around when Lady Williams arrives; doubtless he has many people to thank there for their roles in helping him.”

He shook his head at all this and frankly I did not blame him.

֍


	3. Chapter 3

Lady Ophelia Williams arrived in a burst of perfume that, I am sure, was already starting to kill the nearby potted plant as she was sitting down in the hotel reception room. She was one of those women in her early forties who had yet to realize that fifty tons of make-up did not make her look any younger, and whatever colour she had been trying for when she had dyed her hair recently she had achieved a bizarre mauve-grey combination. I had explained all to John and told him that no, he was not allowed to use his gun, and yes, I was sorely tempted to use mine.

“Greetings, Lady Williams”, I said. “I have some news for you concerning your necklace. I have found it.”

“That is wonderful!” she boomed. “Where is it?”

“I handed it over to your stepson this morning.”

Her face fell like a rock throw off Beachy Head.

“You did _what?”_ she thundered. Several people nearby looked across at the sudden noise.

“He says that he will be selling it and using the money to improve conditions in your family's mills and factories”, I said. “Rather more useful than an expensive gewgaw.”

“He cannot do that”, the woman said stoutly. _”I_ have control over our estates for the next two years.”

I reached into my pocket and extracted two things, a folded single piece of paper and a set of papers tied together with red ribbon.

“What are those?” she demanded.

“The single paper is a Certificate of Revocation”, I said. “You will sign it and grant control of your estate over to your stepson. Naturally he will need assistance, but I have recommended an excellent Manchester lawyer who can assist him until he comes of age.”

“And why would I do that, _sirrah?_ she sniffed.

I showed her the second set of papers.

“When I heard that Sergeant Josiah Templar was having problems with his position in the Lancashire Constabulary”, I said, “I asked myself – why? Good police officers are hard to find, and Lord alone knows what when I see the alternative is the likes of the feckless Mr. Coster then the loss was an even more egregious one. And I did not like it that when I checked, Sergeant Templar's excellent record came to a sudden end with that mysterious matter of the stolen evidence.”

“I am fortunate that my many years of work have given me contacts in both the police and the criminal fraternity. The difference between the two is often not as wide as it should be. I was able to find out that Sergeant Templar's troubles arose directly after he was given one particular assignment, one for which he was specifically requested. To wit, guarding _your_ house.”

She stared at me in stony silence.

“I really hoped that I was wrong”, I said heavily, “as the mental images involved were quite unpleasant, but a check of the constabulary files showed that I was not. Four different policemen had been assigned that duty before the sergeant. All were handsome young men and every single one of them went on to what their colleagues rightly considered unmerited promotions. Because they all said yes to your advances – but Sergeant Templar said no, and that was unforgivable.”

“You have no proof of this!” she hissed, but I could see that she doubted her own words.

“I have informed the Chief Constable of my findings”, I said icily, “and he has been advised that his force will be being monitored _very_ closely in future. You yourself have a choice. You can sign everything over to your son, or you can endure social ruin and humiliation the likes of which the gentlemen and ladies of Lancashire will be discussing for many a long year.”

She stared at me for some time before uttering an obscenity that I shall not repeat, if only because I had to look it up afterwards. She grabbed the pen on offer and signed at the mark before sweeping out of the room. John let out a huge sigh of relief and I could not but agree.

֍

A short time later we were all at Wigan, boarding the express for London. Annoyingly this was a corridor train (many were these days especially on the main lines, worse luck!) although it was one where the front first-class compartment was partly blocked off by one of those seemingly pointless doors in the corridor itself. Still, only a few hours to go.

The sergeant stood up and walked over to open the door.

“Sergeant?” John asked.

“Going back to second-class, sirs”, he said.

“But....” I began. He stopped me with a knowing look.

“I doubt you'll survive until London, not the way you keep looking at the poor doctor”, he grinned. “Just make sure you lock the corridor door after me – I'm sure you've got something you can jam it with – and try to leave him in one piece!”

Chuckling, he left. I stared after him then hurried to lock both the corridor door and the only other way into our compartment, the door out on the right. Then I was back in our compartment and.....

Ye Gods, how had he got naked so fast?

֍

_Postscriptum: Young Mr. Martin Williams duly paid me the reward for the return of the necklace, and I passed it on to a shocked Sergeant Templar (who as I had known he would passed it on to his friends back in Lancashire, Mr. Cairns included). The new factory owner also clearly had something of a cruel streak for he made his mother move into one of the self-same cramped and inadequate terraced houses that she had once deemed 'far too good for people'. She had to endure that for the rest of his minority, nearly two years, but at the end he granted her a small allowance and purchased a small house at the other end of the county for her (personally I would have gone for the other end of Siberia!). She lived out her remaining days there quietly and, miracle of miracles, seemed to have actually learned her lesson. Unlike two of Sergeant Templar's former 'superiors' who soon after were 'unlucky' enough to get caught coming out of a rather risqué night-club in York with a certain 'hobnoxious' sergeant after which they were all forced to resign. How extremely unfortunate for them that they had been spotted by a group of local journalists who all 'just happened to be passing'. Ah well, 'accidents' will happen._

_If I have anything to do with it!_

֍

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> † Author's Note: There were 50 Precedents (built 1874-1882) and 158 Improved/Renewed Precedents or Jumbos (built 1887-1901) both types being 2-4-0 locomotives, the standard express engine of their day and similar in size to 'Silver Blaze' from an earlier railway-themed case. Jumbo 2177 'Edward Tootal' (built 1895, scrapped 1911) was named after Sir Edward Tootal Broadhurst (1858-1922), a major cotton-factory owner, while Jumbo 790 'Hardwicke' (built 1892, withdrawn and preserved 1932) was named for Hardwicke Hall, home to the famous Elizabethan Bess of Hardwick. This engine can usually be seen at the National Railway Museum in York.


End file.
